


Safe & Sane

by Omnibard



Series: Cathedral of You [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Masturbation, Nonverbal Communication, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Telepathy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibard/pseuds/Omnibard
Summary: So... I wrote some mostly-smut for the future of CoY.  It's only about half-finished smut, and I'm not sure when/if I'll finish it... It kind of got away from me in the Spring of 2018 and has been waiting in GDocs... (along with most everything else)(Explicit rating just for safety)
Relationships: Cor Leonis/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Cathedral of You [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/955296
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

It started with the blowjob. It’d begun innocently enough-- him reading in bed, her snuggled against his shoulder before deciding to fall asleep as was their usual. Her fingers had idly found his hip, and she’d asked him if he would mind if she tried giving him head. He’d considered, then glanced at her and said she could do whatever she wanted, but it wasn’t really what he was into-- and she knew it already. She’d acknowledged what he’d said and simply told him she wanted to try, and if he didn’t like it, he could tell her to stop. He furrowed his brow, asked if she wanted him to stop reading, and put the book aside when she said that she did-- that she wanted him to talk to her, that his voice would help her keep her confidence while she tried something new.

The Marshal was supportive of his young lover in this way-- communicating and sharing,  _ giving _ when and where necessary, despite his demanding sense of duty, quiet personality and lack of overt emotion. In return, she put few demands on him-- reading his thoughts was a useful tool at her disposal, and it negated many sources of drama and misunderstanding in their relationship before they took root. They very infrequently argued, and any arguments were resolved quickly with very little residual animosity left over.

It was not difficult for him to settle on a topic of discussion when she began. Familiar with her history for having a surprising love-making repertoire-- Altissian kissing coming first to mind-- despite her relative innocence, he was not  _ terribly _ surprised with her lack of fumbling, and so he’d asked-- out loud instead of just in his thoughts, because she’d said she wanted to hear his voice. He’d asked--without accusing-- if she’d been practicing with the Galahdians, or if this skill was  _ also _ taught during her tender years in Accordo. She admitted to being given advice from her friends in the refugee district, but swore she’d only practiced on root vegetables. From there, he amused himself by suggesting various root vegetables of laughable size, until she’d tried to swallow his half-hard length and didn’t quite succeed. He’d then cautioned her, and then been quietly surprised when she succeeded immediately after. He hardened fully in her throat.

Cor had not been facetious when he’d said he wasn’t partial to receiving oral sex. This was as far as it’d ever been able to take him, in his long and practiced history, but he was too courteous of her feelings and determination to discourage her. Still, his thoughts and attention drifted often as she continued, and he’d almost recommended she desist and move onto other more mutually enjoyable activities, when Ariel’s mouth left his testicles and she licked at the sensitive skin behind them, muttering something about his ass. Then he told her sharply to  _ stop _ .

She did, of course. Their relationship was built on trust as well as affection, and beyond that,  _ few _ in Lucis disobeyed the Marshal of the Crownsguard, especially when he used  _ that _ tone of voice. It was strange, however, because even as he called for a cease and desist, something in his mind had bucked in excitement. So she asked him. He told her, in unequivocal terms, that he didn’t want her mouth anywhere near his asshole,  _ regardless _ of what she thought she’d heard from filthy, base parts of his mind. She’d accepted his line in the sand, wondering at it, because he didn’t seem to have very many.

Indeed, he let her do anything she wanted to him. It  _ frightened her _ sometimes, his lack of sane and safe boundaries when it came to  _ himself _ . She suspected this was a boundary he’d made for  _ her _ \-- that it wasn’t so much “keep her mouth away from his ass” as it was “keep his ass away from her mouth”. He didn’t like anything that might seem to degrade her. He always treated her with utmost respect and care. He was an attentive lover, strong when she needed to feel his strength, but otherwise very tender and gentle. He seemed insistent on it, on being careful with her, as if the calloused hands against her skin could be somehow  _ different hands _ from the ones that fought so fiercely the enemies of Insomnia. He didn’t have the same discipline when it came to himself. He made no protest when her nails clawed down his back, sometimes hard enough to draw blood. He merely grinned with half-hooded eyes when she found enough purchase in his short hair to wrench his head to meet her lust-drenched kisses. Once she’d ridden him hard enough to bruise him badly enough that he’d had trouble walking the next day-- he’d said nothing about it until she threatened to take him to the ER. Even then, all he’d said was that he’d been ‘fine with it’ since she seemed to be enjoying herself. Ariel could hear his thoughts. He felt the pain she carelessly dished out in the heat of passion, he didn’t particularly enjoy it-- it wasn’t  _ masochism _ \-- he was just ‘fine’ with it. It  _ frightened _ her, sometimes, his lack of sane and safe boundaries, so she always tried extra diligently to make them  _ for _ him.

He was often out to sabotage her efforts, however, because few things gave him smug satisfaction as much as turning her  _ completely  _ out. Like immediately after their short discussion, when he pushed her onto her back, yanked her panties down to her ankles, and informed her that turnabout was fair play, that no root vegetables would be involved, and that he didn’t mind if she talked to him, but his goal was to get more inarticulate sounds-- and maybe his name-- out of her. She didn’t really mind. Cor enjoyed  _ giving _ oral sex, and he was very, very,  _ very _ good at it.

  
It’d  _ started _ with the blowjob. It escalated sharply after that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most explicit part so far...

Ariel had returned from a deployment-- her tasks for the Crownsguard were various due to her particular skillset, but more often than not she did not go beyond the Wall. Sometimes, however, she accompanied the Kingsglaive for anticipated ‘large battles’ to support the mages and provide healing-- a day early, and outside the door, sensed something amiss. Therefore, she entered the apartment they shared quietly and proceeded directly to the bedroom from where she heard strange noises.

She’d more or less expected to find Cor masturbating-- not that he did it very frequently, and when he did, it was more often in the shower than in the bed (the Marshal was a staunch believer in efficiency) but Ariel could  _ read his mind _ and had therefore heard vaguely what he’d been up to-- but she had  _ not _ expected to find him masturbating with her dildo.

She knew it was  _ hers _ , and not just one he’d acquired (and somehow kept hidden) that  _ looked exactly like _ hers because his thoughts when he met her eyes  _ told her so _ . It was the dildo she’d been given by Andali (half as a joke… half as a reminder to  _ take care of herself _ ) and been caught using while  _ Cor _ was away more than once. It was  _ hers _ , and  _ that _ was why he was using it. Because it was hers.

_ Because  _ it was  _ her  _ dildo.

Because it had been the closest he could get to having  _ her _ fucking him. And it  _ was _ fucking him, with rapid, jerking strokes, full to the hilt, until he saw her in the doorway and he’d stopped the frantic movements of his wrist-- his hips were another matter, still twitching needily.

He was full-mast at attention between the thighs, angry and red and leaking precum onto his belly. He was flushed from hairline to chest, soaked with sweat, and Ariel could not deny how incredibly  _ concupiscent  _ the scene was.

She knew, then, that she was at a crossroads. There wasn’t much time to make a decision, either, because whereas Cor could  _ not actually _ read her mind, she wasn’t nearly as good at hiding her feelings from her face as he was.

And she  _ did  _ have feelings. So many twisting feelings at what she was witnessing.

But if she handled this poorly, it could mean something terrible between them. It could close him away. He hadn’t meant to share this, but now he had, and if she handled it  _ poorly _ he would be more reluctant to share the shadowed broken edges of himself in the future.

Therefore, Ariel hadn’t thought. She simply moved. Still wearing her uniform and all the battle-born dust, and blood of the wounded she’d healed, she went to him, climbed up beside him, and covered his hand on the dildo with hers, and  _ resumed _ with full, slow strokes.

“Miss me?~” Was her grinning question.

His answer was more a moan than real words, “ _ Gods _ yes…” as he pulled her down into a hungry kiss.

She fucked him with the dildo--  _ her dildo _ , but probably  _ not anymore _ \-- concerned the entire time about how it kept slipping in her hand-- how his body kept trying to draw it further into him and how  _ dangerous _ it could be because it wasn’t  _ made _ for anal penetration, it’d been made for  _ vaginal insertion _ which was why she’d  _ been given it _ in the first place. She held on, and moved her wrist in sinuous, smooth strokes, and kissed him with all the pent-up passion of their time apart, and did not consider any of her other feelings.

Those could be dealt with later. Alone. Probably over hard liquor.

Except that wasn’t the right answer either. They’d have to talk about this.

Cor’s breathing kept breaking rhythm, hitching with little moans that changed in pitch depending on where inside she probed him, and she knew he was close. He had been closer than she realized, however, because the moment she trailed a fingertip up his dribbling cock, he clenched hard inside, abdominals flexing mightily, almost yanking the dildo out of her grasp, and he came, groaning,  _ spraying _ violently across the front of her uniform from groin to her chin.

Ariel had never seen him or  _ anyone _ orgasm that strongly before. Her inexperience showed in her expression as she had stared at him, each twisting feeling chasing each other across her face as she flushed scarlet.

Cor was spent, completely, seeming a melted puddle of a man in the middle of their bed, watching her with heavy-hooded eyes, unable to bring to bear the ability to be properly concerned about any part of the situation. She pulled the device out of his body with a slick, sucking sound, and he shuddered, head of his penis dribbling more come.

“...Ariel…” He’d murmured, voice thick with pleasure.

She smiled, and hoped it looked much less broken than it felt as she touched his knee, “Relax. I’m just gonna go wash up.”

The moment she was in the bathroom alone she knew it hadn’t been the right move. She didn’t know much about aftercare for a man after anal penetration, but  _ surely _ it wasn’t good to just leave them alone? But then she saw herself in the mirror, covered in dirt and blood and  _ war _ with come sprayed over the front of her uniform and chin and in her hair, holding the dildo in her hand.

She saw her own very  _ lost _ expression in the mirror. What did this  _ mean _ ? Did it mean  _ anything _ ?

They’d have to talk about it. After.

After she cleaned up and calmed down.

Hopefully Cor would take care of himself-- and it was terrible to think that way, terrible enough to bring sharp shards to her throat and tears to her eyes, but she didn’t know what to do.

The toy was dropped in the sink and she stripped quickly, dropping garments on the floor like they were covered in spiders or  _ fire _ before hurrying into the shower.

Cor could take care of himself, of course. He’d been doing so for almost forty years. It was only her  _ vanity _ telling her otherwise.

Ten minutes later, trying to scrub away her darker feelings-- they’d have to talk about it, but she didn’t want to talk about it  _ upset _ , she didn’t want to  _ be upset _ , but she  _ was _ \-- she’d heard the knock at the bathroom door, curt as always, followed by his voice, “... Can I come in?”

He’d needed a shower of course… after all  _ that _ … And there was only the one in the apartment.

“Yes.”

She’d heard him enter, heard his thoughts stutter when he saw the dildo in the sink, heard him brace himself before stepping to the shower, “Ariel?”

“Come in, Cor.” She tugged the shower curtain open, “Water’s still hot.”

He entered. She’d moved enough to make room for him under the showerhead and listened to him rinse, slowing her own scrubbing to hear the sounds of his hands scraping the water down his body. Cor did not shower for relaxation-- like she did-- or pleasure. He showered to clean himself, and any other extra-curricular activities he might engage in were attributed entirely to her presence there with him, or him having to deal with himself  _ without _ her.

She listened to him bathe-- the soft sounds of skin on wet skin, of his breathing, of the quiet grunt in his throat at the water temperature and the pull of taxed muscles-- and tried not to focus on his thoughts. They needed to  _ talk _ about this, and the fastest way to shut Cor’s mouth was to point out the discrepancies before he could even voice the ideas that housed them.

He knew she was upset, and he was sure she knew he knew. He didn’t like that he’d been outed this way-- surprised her like that. Shocked her. He wasn’t thinking about how she’d come and joined him yet-- saving it for dissection later, because that didn’t change that he knew she was upset, and that was what needed to be addressed now. He considered that other than being shocked, she was probably most upset that he’d used her dildo without asking. He discarded the thought many times, though it kept coming back, nagging at him.

He avoided the thought that it’d disgusted her to find him that way-- it could be true (was probably true) -- but considering it too carefully now would just turn him away from addressing the problem.

Ariel knew the precise moment when she’d feel his hands, warm and gentle on her skin, but she did not pull away, and let him pull her into his arms. He bent his head and kissed her shoulder.

“I missed you.”

The Marshal was a man of few words-- all of them were direct. He’d said them because they were true--or he at least had carefully considered them and  _ determined _ they were true, Ariel did not trifle with him about the things he said. He did not obfuscate with words, and had long-since given up trying to sugar-coat or lie about anything-- especially to  _ her _ . He didn’t say it as a pleasantry or a nicety-- a balm to soothe ruffled feathers. He’d said it because he  _ meant _ it. He’d missed her.

She settled into it, into  _ him _ . His hands slid carefully over her, not teasing, not  _ enticing _ , not even  _ inviting _ . He’d missed her, missed  _ touching _ her, and since she was not resisting him, he was convinced she’d missed  _ being touched _ with affection. He was right, of course.

Still. “We need to talk about it.” 

“... Okay.” He let her go. She finished rinsing the soap from her body and then stepped out again. He let her go first, then followed. They dressed in the bedroom, and Ariel noted he’d stripped the bed. She went to the kitchen, he returned to the bathroom.

“I’ll take your uniform in tomorrow,” He told her, coming out with the garments in question.

Ariel looked at him, turning momentarily from the leftovers she was reheating, “You’re taking my uniform? To the cleaners?”

They didn’t separate the majority of their laundry-- no real need, since he’d been taking all their clothing for years now. The ladies no longer whispered about the Marshal coming in with women’s clothing, assuming he had a daughter or a wife and that was fine.-- but Ariel insisted on taking her own Crownsguard uniforms, because they wouldn’t be  _ overlooked _ quite so easily. She was a foot shorter and almost a hundred pounds lighter, and all her uniforms were tailored for her slender physique. There’d be no mistaking them for his. Then the questions would come, whispered in rumors:  _ what is the Marshal doing with a female Crownsguard uniform in his laundry? _ There were already the whispers in the Citadel-- had been since her training days, perhaps even  _ earlier _ \-- about the suspected impropriety of their relationship. Some knew the truth. To Ariel’s knowledge, nothing had befallen the Marshal or his reputation because of it. She could bear the rumors about herself-- ‘ _ Marshal’s Pet’ _ had been only the  _ beginning _ \-- but couldn’t stand the idea of him being humiliated because of her. Because he was  _ with _ her.

Cor was looking at her, and she knew he’d already considered her feelings on the matter, and had determined that it’d be less troublesome for him to deliver the semen-soaked garments than for her to do so. Nosey laundry ladies wouldn’t dare ask him to his face what had happened, but  _ her _ on the other hand… But more urgently, he was frowning over her at the stove when she’d only just come back from beyond the Wall and battle.  _ I should be doing that… _

She shook her head, “... There should be a bag in the closet? Thank you.”

No reason to pick battles. She wasn’t beyond the Wall anymore. He’d wanted to be considerate of her.

He nodded, a sharp inclination of his head, then disappeared into the bedroom. Returning momentarily, he washed his hands in the kitchen sink.

“Are you eating?” She asked.

“Yes. Do I need to get something?” Something more. Fairly often returning from beyond the Wall gave one or both a cavernous appetite, and he did not want to assume she’d planned on feeding the both of them.

“Um. How’re you?”

He shrugged, “Hungry.”

She nodded, “Probably better get the other one, then.”

“I can do it.” Reheat it. So she could just eat instead of fuss over him.

“I know.” She gestured for the fridge, “I don’t want you to.”

He obliged her and she moved things around in the pan to try and even out the cooking time.

He busied himself in the kitchen, unwilling to stand idle while she worked on dinner, “Drink?” Alcohol. Beer or wine-- she preferred wine.  _ Altissian _ .

She wanted hard liquor. “No.”

“... Coffee?”

“Water.” She told him, “Probably better for you too.” He’d been soaked in sweat, and she didn’t know how long he’d been there. How long had it taken him to get that worked up?

He grunted his agreement and busied himself with glasses and ice, with cutting up limes because she liked ice water best with a slice of lime and it’d grown on him as well.

Ariel always liked watching his hands, but there was a special attraction when he used a knife-- a preternatural sort of ease there that she’d never master herself no matter how many cooking lessons she took.

Dinner was quiet and comfortable at their small dining room table. He answered a text and set his phone aside-- his phone was not a sticking point in their relationship, it was more often a joke, because it was clear he  _ hated it _ and what it represented, but it was a necessity for his duties and he was never truly off the clock. They did dishes together and then retired to the couch.

“... Are you into men?” She asked, after agonizing how to begin, and then deciding haphazardly that the lingering silence and anticipation were absolutely worse than anything she might blurt out.

He blinked at her, furrowing his brow, then the corner of his mouth twitched, and she knew he was desperately fighting a smirk, “That would be troubling, considering who I’ve been with this last year or so…”

“Cor.”

“I’m into  _ you _ . Just you.”

“But that… So that was…”

He furrowed harder, “... You  _ understand _ how it works…” The male human body. She’d studied human anatomy and physiology  _ extensively _ for her duties-- especially her healing. Searching for the correlation with what she’d seen, it became clear to her when she started thinking about it from a medical perspective.

“Oh.” The prostate. It wasn’t an unfamiliar concept that some men took a great deal of pleasure from having their prostate stimulated-- it just hadn’t occurred to her that  _ Cor Leonis _ was one of them, “I never…”

“You couldn’t have. Probably.” He shrugged, “I didn’t say or do anything while you were around.”

“But today…”

He looked at her steadily, gauging her, and when she met his look and didn’t waver, he glanced aside and said quietly, “Today I wanted to get fucked.”

He wasn’t ashamed, but he thought he was  _ about to be _ . He thought the disgust would come now. The accusation. The lessening of her esteem of him. He knew who and what he was, and more or less accepted it, and her rejection would not change that, but it would hurt him. So he braced himself.

“...Just today?”

The lack of anything other than pure query in her tone turned his eyes back her way, “No.”

She frowned, “... Please tell me I haven’t put…”

“No.” He shook his head, heat climbing up his throat toward his ears,  _ actually _ embarrassed and ashamed now-- he’d taken her things without asking permission… “I used my fingers before. Today I just…” He shook his head again, eyes lowered.

“... You wanted  _ me _ to fuck you.” She said softly.

He didn’t answer, and he didn’t look up. There was something terrible and jagged in his thoughts then, something deep in the shadows writhing around about how it might be more awful than he’d first realized. She was  _ right _ , and they both knew it, but did that suggest he’d done something…  _ more _ … than just take and use something intimate of hers without permission?

Ariel breathed, settling her own thoughts, giving him the moment to sort his.

“... Does it sicken you?” Was his question, raising his eyes to read her face, voice and question clear. He knew her tendency to try and spare his feelings, and he would have none of it now.

“... Yes.” She admitted, “It sickens me to think I’ve never seen you like that before… that I’ve never been that good for you. That I  _ can’t _ be.”

“Ariel--”

She flushed scarlet at her blunt honesty, “-- It was… you were  _ so hot _ , Cor.”

“-- I just want you.” He assured her.

“But I can’t…” She gestured helplessly toward her pelvis. She didn’t even consider her fingers-- far too short and slender to get the job done.

He reached for her, pulling her into his lap, “I just want  _ you _ . You weren’t here, so I made do. I shouldn’t have.”

“No, that’s ridiculous,” She protested, letting him nuzzle into her neck, tipping her head to the side to give him more clearance, “you do what you need to to take care of yourself-- that’s the agreement, Cor.”

“Not if it upsets you.”

“It upsets me because  _ I can’t _ fuck you that good.”

“Ariel,” he chuckled, teeth grazing her sensitive skin, his voice and the sensation causing her to shiver, “you  _ did _ fuck me that good. You were  _ there _ .”

“Only at the end…”

“So I won’t start without you next time…” His voice lowered.

“That’s ridiculous.” She insisted, “You should… do what’s good for you.”

“Doing you is good for me.”

“I mean--”

His voice was firm, “What’s ridiculous is you thinking you’ve lost a competition with a piece of latex to satisfy my prostate. You satisfy me. You’re what I wanted. What I want.”

And of course he was right. It hadn’t bothered  _ him  _ to find her using her dildo while he’d been away-- there’d been no doubts in his mind where he rested in the order of preference. But, then again, nothing and noone had ever had such command over her body as he did. She’d never had a better orgasm with anything else than his body. Some doubt remained.

She knew it shouldn’t. She knew it was old ghosts from a life better forgotten insisting that she was unworthy.

Of him. Of love.

That she wasn’t  _ enough _ .

She shouldn’t listen.

“I’m sorry.” She said, “You’re right. It’s ridiculous and… you shouldn’t have to patch up my ego over my--”

“--Is that what I’m doing?” The smirk slid easily across his lips, she felt it against her skin. She shivered again, hearing the taunting intentions behind his words, “I do that better without words, I think…”

“...Later.” It was hard to say, hard to  _ want _ with his mouth at her neck and her shivering under his hands and invitation already, but he was exhausted, and so was she, now that she stopped to consider it, “Just… hold me now, please. I missed you too.”

There was a low rumble in his throat, and he kissed her softly on the mouth before she settled against his chest, and the sound of his breathing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... here's the awkward drop-off. I just sort of... lost momentum I guess :(

Ariel couldn’t let it go. It clung to her, the image of him in the bed like that, more worked up than she’d ever seen him, the  _ feel _ of his hands and mouth closer to the ragged edge of losing control than she could remember. She decided if her lover wanted to receive anal sex-- ‘get fucked’ were his words-- then by the Six, he was gonna  _ have it _ and they’d do it  _ right _ this time. Thus her research began. First was a more thorough study of the male prostate. Then she went searching for anal sex toys, trolling online sex shops, review sites, and forums.

“I’m going to show you something,” She announced, “and I want you to tell me which you think you’d like better.”

He’d been mildly curious exactly  _ what _ she’d been spending her evenings so intently researching the last several days, curled up on her corner of the couch facing him so he couldn’t see what was on her tablet screen. For a moment he thought she was going to show him dancing dresses. He blinked when the screen actually turned his way.

_ Not dresses… _ Was his initial thought, even before the confusion settled. Ariel did her level best to hide her amusement.

To his credit, the Marshal  _ did _ consider the items on the screen, then looked her in the face, “... I don’t need them.”

“I didn’t ask you which one you  _ needed _ , Cor. Which one do you  _ like _ ? Which one looks like it’d feel best?”

He furrowed his brow at her, “For you or me?”

“These are for anal sex, Cor. If I want anything in my ass,  _ I’ll let you know. _ ” Because it’d probably  _ start _ with him, just like everything else had.

Considering the screen again, he  _ thought _ about it, and Ariel heard him dredge up memories of sensation. She couldn’t  _ feel it _ any more than he actually did-- less so even, but the way it lit up his imagination and made his throat work to swallow set her heart to racing.  _ Already. _

“This one. Probably.” He pointed, “You’re taking this seriously.”

“Yes.” She pulled the tablet back to herself, to investigate the one he’d indicated in more detail.

“Ariel,” His voice was firm, demanding her attention, “you don’t have to.”

“Vibrating or pulsating? Oh, I guess it does both… but this other one has moving beads  _ inside _ so I guess it’s supposed to feel like it’s… writhing? Would that be good?”

“Ariel.”

Her dark eyes met his gaze, “I heard you. I’m taking it seriously. I want to. I want it  _ bad _ , Cor. I want to fuck you. I want you panting hard under me again. You don’t?”

She heard the precise moment his thoughts concentered, laser-focused, and watched his eyes narrow and gleam with heat. Grinning, she set the tablet aside on the coffee table, getting it safely out of the way of his advance, “Yeah, you do.”

“Maybe,” He admitted roughly against her mouth, hands fisting her shirt at her waist, dragging it up her body and over her head, “Could go for it right now, without the extra equipment.”

“Well, I’ll do the best I can…”

Managing to slip out of his grasp, she took his hand and led him to the bedroom, losing the rest of their clothes in stages on the way-- Cor would have been happy to continue there on the couch, but Ariel always lost patience with his  _ hard stop _ between foreplay and intercourse when he insisted on the latter taking place on the bed where sheets could be changed-- and at the foot of the bed, she sat him down in front of her before shoving him on his back.

“Gonna be rough, huh.” He mused up at her, scooting back closer to the headboard so she’d have room to mount up.

Drinking in the sight of his body in that slinking motion, muscles under uncommon demand, Ariel replied lightly, “I’m going to taunt you with ‘rough’ because it gets you going, then I’m going to be sweet and you’re going to taunt  _ me  _ into rough because you’re  _ terrible _ and like me best when I’m sloppy. You know. The usual.”

“My favorite.” His hands steadied her hips while she straddled him on her knees, settling high on his pelvis with his slowly hardening cock behind and between her ass cheeks. Her hands spread from where their bodies met up his belly toward his chest, wondering  _ again, _ as she always did, how she ever managed to end up with this man; how she’d ever managed to get his attention, looking the way he did, and as fluent in lovemaking as he often proved to be.

He could probably have any woman in Lucis (or man for that matter!) at the barest crook of his littlest finger if he really wanted.

The calluses on his hands were rough against the silky skin of her waist and belly, fingertips tracing the powerful muscles of her core before brushing the shape of her ribcage. His thoughts thrummed all aroused appreciation-- he loved her body, not only for the way it looked and felt, but that she’d worked ceaselessly to take the figure of a dancer and turn it into a sharp blade the Crownsguard could slip deep into the dark underbelly of the city, or palm subtly into the grip of their sister-service the Kingsglaive. And still dance.

Her insane range of flexibility could be rather exciting too.

Cor’s hands were larger, especially against her smaller frame, but Ariel reached his chest before he reached hers and she grinned something decidedly  _ victorious _ when her palms brushed hard over his pectorals and his already erect nipples. They were particularly  _ sensitive _ . He grimaced at her, his teeth baring even as his entire body flexed, digging his shoulders into the mattress beneath him, throat turning scarlet from his ears and past his collarbone.

“I’m not even being ‘rough’ yet…”

“ _ Cocktease _ .” He snarled affection and impatience with the same breath.

“Well… if you insist…~” One hand left his chest to reach behind her and circle the head of his penis with a fingertip.

Jaw clenching, his fingers flexed into the firm muscles layered against her back, and his thoughts regrouped in anticipation of a long siege.  _ He could outlast her _ . “Ariel.” Was his mix of threat, warning, and invitation to  _ get on with it _ .

She wasn’t as good at the ‘long game’ as he was, and it didn’t interest her nearly as much either. He was just  _ so much better _ at teasing than she was. (In her humble opinion he was better at  _ all of it _ than she was…) “You really  _ do _ want it rough and dirty…” She sighed before leaning over him for the nightstand, having to dismount him entirely to reach it, and fetch a condom from the drawer. Cor watched her go, then moved again, twisting and pulling himself on one arm so he could use the other to trace his hand from the back of her thigh, up her sculpted backside, and lightly up her spine while pressing kisses up the side of her waist. He’d gently sunk his teeth into the swell of her breast by the time she’d retrieved what she was after.


End file.
